


In the Beginning

by Tenoko1



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale finds out on accident, Bedtime Stories, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley really loves Aziraphale, Crowley word vomits, Fairy Tales, Fluff, M/M, Moar Fluff, Nanny tells the BEST bedtime stories, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pure fluff, self indulgent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: “Once upon a time,” Brother Francis began, a smile spreading over his features. He looked more enthused and delighted by the forthcoming story than his audience, a four-year-old boy draped over an ever-patient sheepdog. The dog was about as much his nanny as Nanny Ashtoreth, herding the boy around as though he were a flock of one.“You’re telling it wrong,” Warlock informed him.Aziraphale blinked, then jerked back in offense. He- Aziraphale, an angel of the Lord, who had been on Earth before the very invention of storytelling- was being told he was telling a story wrong?The smile he forced onto his face was tight and did little to disguise the vein throbbing in his temple. “Pardon, Master Warlock?”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 167





	In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind and don't forget to comment. ^_^ I hope you enjoy the fic! ♥♥♥  
> 

“Once upon a time,” Brother Francis began, a smile spreading over his features. He looked more enthused and delighted by the forthcoming story than his audience, a four-year-old boy draped over an ever-patient sheepdog. The dog was about as much his nanny as Nanny Ashtoreth, herding the boy around as though he were a flock of one.

“You’re telling it wrong,” Warlock informed him.

Aziraphale blinked, then jerked back in offense. He- _Aziraphale_ , an angel of the Lord, who had been on Earth before the very _invention_ of storytelling- was being told he was telling a story _wrong_?

The smile he forced onto his face was tight and did little to disguise the vein throbbing in his temple. “Pardon, Master Warlock?”

Warlock twisted onto his back, head lolling over the dog’s shoulder as he peered at Francis upside-down. “You’re doin’ wrong,” he repeated.

“Now see here--”

“You’re supposed to start with ‘In the beginning.’”

Mouth open mid-sentence, Brother Francis pulled back and frowned. “In the… Oh! Do you mean like in Sunday School? With Adam and Eve?”

“No?” Warlock answered, rolling over again, this time looping his arms around the dog’s neck. He looked as confused as Brother Franics. “Like how _all_ stories start. Y’know, ‘In the beginning, there was an _angel_ and a _demon_ ,’” he said. They continued to stare at one another. Warlock prodded, “You’re supposed to pick up from there.”

“Wha-? Oh! Oh. Yes. Quite missed that. Sorry. Uh, real quick, Warlock: who’s been telling you these stories? About an angel and a demon?”

“Nanny.”

“Ah. And I suppose the demon wins every time?”

“ _No_ ,” bemoaned Warlock, sliding off the dog and into the grass in complete despair.

“Then what happens?”

“Have you _never_ had bedtime storytime?”

“...now that you mention it, I must admit I haven’t.”

Shoving himself up to a sitting position, Warlock rolled his eyes. “No wonder you got it wrong.” Heaving a weary sigh, Warlock crawled forward and plopped down close to Brother Franics, practically in his lap. When he shifted to give Warlock more room, he stopped him. “No! You gotta _scootch in close_ for storytime. Okay, so, it’s _day_ and we’re _outside_ but you’re supposed to do this _at night_ , ‘cause of the wall puppets-- Nanny does them better-- so you've got to _pretend_ , okay?”

“Very well.”

“And Nanny said her stories are top secret, guard your heart, let your enemies die, poke a needle in their eye-- but she won’t be mad if it’s _you_. You can’t even _start_ right. I’ll help you get it right for next time.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Aziraphale wasn’t able to ward off the snort of laughter that escaped him, his facade slipping. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Warlock shrugged. “It’s not my secret to keep safe. Nanny’s fault for telling hers.”

“While my first instinct is to tell you not to tell other people’s secrets, I feel as though Nanny would be very proud in this one instance-- and then warn you most severely to never do it-- _to her_ \-- again.”

Warlock’s face was pale when he swiveled to look at him. “Oh no, you’re right.” His eyes grew double in size. “You’re not gonna tell her, are you?”

“Not unless you give me a reason to.”

The boy’s expression fell into a pout and scowl. “That’s called… uh… something. Nanny’s right. It does work.”

“Dear boy, will you never cease to confuse me during our conversation?”

“Mail!” Warlock exclaimed. “It’s _mail_ , but not the kind that comes _in_ the mail.”

“...do you mean _blackmail_?”

“Blackmail!”

Heaving a sigh, Aziraphale rubbed his temple. “I see Nanny has been teaching you about more than shadow puppets and storytime.”

Warlock proudly lifted his foot in the air, nearly kicking the dog in the process. “She also taught me to tie my shoes! Look! See! I did it all by myself!”

“You did a marvelous job,” Aziraphale praised, his persona slipping completely as fondness softened his eyes.

“Alright, so!” Warlock said, raising his hands in a flourish in an approximation of creating shadow puppets on the wall. “In the beginning, there was an angel and a demon. The demon was clever and wicked, and he could crawl around the earth as a serpent-- Nanny says that means a big snake,” Warlock clarified, neck twisting to make sure he understood and his audience was paying attention.

“Oh my! That does sound quite scary and evil.”

Warlock shook his head. “No. I asked Nanny how big and how mean, and if the snake could eat little boys.”

“What did she say?”

“‘Oh no, my darling,’” Warlock said, voice taking on a pitch in an approximation of Nanny Ashtoreth. Aziraphale couldn’t help the smile that spread over his features, “This particular demon was quite _bad_ at being a demon, though he tried to hide it. This clever serpent would never harm the innocent or gobble up little boys.”

Aziraphale chuckled behind his hand. “Well, that is certainly a _relief_.”

“I guess,” Warlock shrugged. “Anyway. The demon was a big snake in a garden-- Nanny calls it _The_ Garden. Says it’s special and magical and hidden away. So, the serpent was sent to make mischief-- Nanny says that means he started trouble, but not by being mean or eatin’ people,” he explained, small hand chomping on his other. “But The Garden, because it was special, only had two people. And they lived there together as husband and wife, but _not_ the first love story.”

Aziraphale jerked back, frowning. “How is that?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess they’re boring. Nanny doesn’t tell me stories about them. Stop in’neruptin’. I’m not gettin’ anywhere.”

Biting back a smile, Airaphale inclined his head. “I’m very sorry.”

“So, there’s not much for the serpent to do, Nanny said. And it was the first time the demon had been on Earth. ‘Mischief is easy,’ the serpent thought. ‘But I am curious about this garden.’ And he was, because the garden was big and magic and the prettiest garden to ever exist. Earth was new and nothing had existed before so the Serpent didn’t know anything about anything, so he slithered up to the woman and said hello.”

“She must have been startled for the serpent to speak.”

Warlock nodded sagely, one arm in constant slithering movements. “Yep, but the serpent told her he was the cleverest of the snakes-- means he was really, really smart and the other snakes were dumb-- but he was the cleverest, and that meant he could talk. He told the man and woman how fine the garden was. And they told him they’d been put in charge of taking care of the garden and naming _all_ the animals and things. The serpent went with the woman, and she showed him the whole garden and told him all the names of the animals.” He let his head fall back, looking up. “Not _name-names_ like my name. But names like ‘that’s a cow, that’s a dog, that’s a bird.’ So that’s why dogs are dogs and not cats, because the man and woman called them dogs, not cats.”

“My! Nanny certainly knows a lot about this story.”

“I asked a lot of questions. And I like when she tells me stories of the angel and demon rather than regular, old, _boring_ stories. I always ask her to tell me stories about them. They’re funnier.”

“And it seems as though you’re reciting the story from memory,” Aziraphale added. Warlock frowned. “Repeating the story word-for-word as Nanny tells it.”

He shrugged. “Told you they’re my favorites. Okay, so! There’s the serpent, and now he wandered ’round on his own because the garden was beautiful and new and never had existed. Then-- _Then_ \--" he stage whispered, eyes wide and fingers spread. "Then the serpent sees the most beautifulest thing in the _whoooole_ garden,” exclaimed Warlock, arms spreading dramatically. Tilting his head back so he was looking up and Aziraphale was looking down at him, Warlock declared, “It was the angel.”

Azirapahle spluttered. “T-the _what_?”

“The _angel_ , Brother Francis, I already _told_ you!” groaned Warlock. “Nanny’s best stories are about--”

“The angel and the demon, yes, right, so you did. I’m more, um, s-stumped-- that is to say, I’m quite confused-- y-you’re saying Cro-- er, the serpent thought the _angel_ was the most beautiful thing in the Garden?” His voice was rather high-pitched, and the end of his question was nearly a squeak.

“Yeah.”

“The _angel_.”

“ _Yeah_.”

“The _demon_ thought the _angel_ was--”

Hands balled into fists, Warlock kicked his soles against the ground, growling out, “The most beautiful thing in the garden, yes! Stop interrupting. We’re not even to the funny part with the vomitin!’”

“ _The_ _what_?”

Rolling his eyes with a huff, Warlock held up his hands again. “You are terrible at storytime. Okay, so, the garden’s not the whole world, and the serpent helps the man and woman get out of the garden so they can see the rest of the world and make their own garden, right? And the angel’s not supposed to leave the garden, so he stays behind and waves them off. Then, the _serpent_ decides might as well slitter up and say ‘hi,’ like he did with the woman” Warlock continued, arm a wild, moving thing accompanied by hissing noises. He tilted his head back. “The snake is shy, see? And didn’t know how to go talk to the angel, so he does it when they can tell the man and woman good-bye, understand?”

Aziraphale swallowed thickly. “Quite.”

Warlock dramatically held up his arms again. “So the demon slithers up and turns into his people-shape so he can talk to the angel without scaring him. They’re supposed to be enemies, but it’s just the two of them and the world is new, and the demon wants to see what the man and woman will build, and he wants to see what the angel will do. But the angel is kind and he worried about the man and woman, so he broke the rules to try and protect them because protecting them had been his job, but he couldn’t leave the garden.”

Warlock tilted his head back, grinning. “That’s when the funny part happens, but I can’t do the shadow puppets like Nanny, but the demon liked the angel very much, and he couldn’t talk because if he did, he knew he’d blargh, blargh, blargh all over the angel,” he laughed, mimicking one hand throwing up on the other. “Stupid, silly stuff and make a fool of himself so that he could never talk to the angel again.”

Frowning, Aziraphale held up a hand. “I’m sorry; I don’t understand. Why would the demon be sick?”

“He’s not sick! He’s vomitin’!”

“That sounds like he’s quite ill, dear Warlock.”

“No, like _words_. He’s gonna start blabbering and s-s-s-tuttering over words and his S’s would get all snakey!” he insisted, once again making the snake mouth open and shut rapidly. “He’d start vomiting random words cause he liked the angel!”

“...oh,” breathed Aziraphale, sure he might never draw another breath.

“And the snake is a demon, right? So he’s supposed to be scary or cool or swathe--”

“Suave?”

“Yeah! That! Nanny says it’s a way of being all… um…” He frowned at his hands. “Well, she didn’t say, but she made the puppet walk and it was funny because the demon was _not cool_ \-- he was just goofy and wanted to blargh blargh blargh on the angel-- but he wanted the angel to _think_ he was cool.”

“...and did the angel like the demon in return?”

“Stop. In. Ter. Rup. Tin!” Warlock exclaimed, throwing himself backward on the grass, arms splayed. “So the demon and the angel met, and it wasn’t Something, but the demon knew it was the _start_ of Something. Something great and for life and his. And, uh… I don’t remember. But so perfect the demon thought it might be destiny-- like Nanny says I have a destiny. It was the start of the world’s biggest adventure, and all it took was an angel and a demon meeting on a perfect day. The end.”

Brows high, Aziraphale blinked rapidly. “My. Well… that certainly is… i-it’s quite…”

Warlock shoved himself up, nose wrinkled. “Did you not like it?”

“No-- I mean, yes! Yes, I liked the story very much. You did a, uh, wonderful job. Lovely. I-I am merely… surprised, is all. I didn’t know Nanny Astoreth told you stories.”

“Nanny tells the _best_ stories.”

“So it would seem.”

“You can ask her to tell you stories so you learn how.”

“Oh, no, dear boy, I couldn’t do that,” Aziraphale demurred. “They are a secret, after all, aren’t they?”

“Oh. Well… yeah. Um… oh!” Warlock looked at him, eyes alight and grin wide. “I can tell you stories ! That way you can learn how, and Nanny won’t know I broke my promise.”

Aziraphale laughed, putting his Brother Francis persona back on and ruffling Warlock’s hair. “Well, that would be just fine, young master! And I suppose that makes this one secret you _will_ keep lest Nanny find out, eh?”

Warlock frowned. “Yeah, I guess so.” He was quite a moment before looking back up. “Now I don’t feel good. I lied to Nanny.”

“Oh, well,” countered Brother Francis, “you didn’t _lie_ , dear boy. Lying is wrong, and good little boys should never do such things. But you _did_ break a promise, and that certainly wasn’t kind, even if you did it for a good reason.”

Eyes lowered, Warlock’s shoulders slumped. “That doesn’t make me feel better. My heart hurts.”

“Now, now,” he consoled. “What do you say we pick some flowers for you to give to Nanny, eh? You still love Nanny, after all. Sometimes these things happen.”

Warlock’s lips jutted out. “The prettiest flowers?”

“Only the best.”

“It’s got to be a lot.”

“As many as your hands can carry.”

Grinning, Warlock was on his feet in an instant. Hands on his hips, serious, narrowed eyes scanned the garden as Brother Francis pushed to his feet.

“We’re gonna get Nanny the best flowers ever!”

Inclining his head with a crooked smile, Aziraphale said, “She deserves nothing less.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind and don't forget to comment. They're kinda the lifeblood of creators.


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